Tuesday, March 31, 2009

அம்பிகையின் அழகின் அலைகள்

SOUNDHARYA LAHARI

Soundarya Lahari is the greatest of all the works on Sri Matha as it exhibits the Srungara Rasa like Srimad Bagavatham, which speaks of the glories of Radha Rani as the queen of rasaleela.The origin of Sri SoundaryaLahari is Sri Kailasham mountains itself. We all owe a lot to Sri Shankara Bagavadpada for this work.

Once there was an argument between a great scholar named MandanaMishra & Sri AdiShankara Bagavadpada. Adi Shankara, debated with him on various topics in Vedas & won the debate after which Mandana Mishra's wife Bharathi wanted to argue with Sri Shankara. Even before she started Shankara understood that, she was going to argue on Srungara. Since Shankara was a virgin & a Sanyasi he went into the body of a king(para kayapravesham),who was dead & understood the essence of bliss in family life. After that he continued the debate and Bharathi & Mandana Mishra became disciples of Sri Shankara. Bharathi, who was an incarnation of Goddess Saraswathy became Sri SaradaDevi in Sringeri. Mandana Mishra was renamed as Sureshwaracharya & was made as the head of Sringeri mutt or ashram. It's after that experience that, Sri Shankara understood more about the timidity & the beauty of women.

Sri Shankara had been to the divine abode of Lord Shiva. Sri Shankara was a noble soul, who attained the pinnacle of wisdom even at the age of eight due to which he could travel with his "sukshma" or the spiritual body to all the worlds. When he went to Kailasham, he saw the holy verses of Sri Soundarya Lahari inscribed on the walls of Kailasham. Sri Shankara started learning them. Seeing that Lord Shiva advised Lord Ganesh to learn those verses too because once Sri Shankara knows it would be known by the whole Universe. If all the people in this Universe would chant SoundaryaLahari, Sri Matha would never leave this universe. Such is the greatness of SoundaryaLahari. There were forty verses originally. Sri Shankara composed 60 more verses, which are called as Ananda Lahari & made it as 100 verses. The verses composed by Sri Shankara are like a direct conversation between man & Sri Matha in simple Sanskrit. Sri Shankara also composed the bashyam or commentary on the same.

If Vedas are like food Sri Soundarya Lahari is like glucose for our soul!! Sri Shankara has given the essence of Bakthy, Vedantha & Srungara rasa in it. Each verse or sloka in it has a particular effect or "Phalam". If anyone would chant the verses with devotion he/she would attain whatever he wishes by the graces of Sri Matha. Various parts of Sri Matha like her nose,eyes,her legs,nails,etc. have been described .Greatness of various aspects of Sri Matha like her glimpse or"drusti", the dust particle form her divine feet ( padha dhooli) have been elaborated in a very nice way. If one could understand the meanings of the verses & chant Sri SoundaryaLahari, one could feel the presence of Sri Matha & would love any woman as Sri Matha as the tenderness of women has been elaborated in this work. Understanding Sri Soundarya Lahari & chanting it is like drinking honey. Sri Matha lives through these verses.Traditionally the verses are chanted in carnatic ragas. As the ragas or musical patterns are associated with a bhavam or mood, the raga matching to the bhava of the verse is used. But chanting all the verses in Ananda Bhairavi raga brings lots of pleasure to our souls!!

The greatness of the Sri Vidhya,Pancha Dashakshari ,Sri Chakram.. have been elaborated in this. But we should owe all these to our great acharya Sri Shankaracharya, who has given us this divine gift. The gifts, which we get from our friends are worthless. But the ones which we get from great people like Sri Shankara BagavadPada through his works are really worthy as they help in the upliftment of our souls.

Introduction

Soundarya Lahari meaning waves of beauty consists of two parts viz. Ananda Lahari meaning waves of happiness (first 41 stanzas) and Soundarya Lahari(the next 59 stanzas). It is believed that Lord Ganesha himself has etched the Ananda Lahari on Mount Meru(Some people believe that Sage Pushpa Dhantha did the etching).It was read from there by Sage Gouda Pada who taught it to Adhi Sankara. Adhi Sankara himself added the rest of the 59 stanzas and completed it.These 100 stanzas are supposed to be the foremost among Manthra literature. It is also believed that by Making suitable Yanthras and reciting particular stanzas and worshipping the yantras almost anything can be obtained in the world .There are more thn 36 commentries to Soundarya Lahari written in Sanskrit itself.Of them the most famous is that written by Lakshmi Dhara alias Lalla,His commentary is used to understand the meaning of the different verses.Though there are large number of translations and commentaries of Soundraya Lahari available this is perhaps the first time an attempt is made by a mere novice to translate them in to English verse. The aim is to bring to the notice of the devotes who know English better than other languages , the majesty of the medium of worship called Soundarya Lahari.A transliteration in roman script is also given. May all those who read this be drenched forever by this “Wave of happiness”

Lord Shiva, only becomes able.To do creation in this world.along with ShakthiWithout her,Even an inch he cannot move,And so how can, one who does not do good deeds,Or one who does not sing your praise,Become adequate to worship youOh , goddess mine,Who is worshipped by the trinity.

2(Attracting all the world)Taniyamsam pamsum tava carana-pankeruha-bhavam Virincih sanchinvan virachayati lokan avikalam; Vahaty evam Shaurih katham api sahasrena shirasaam Harah samksudy'ainam bhajati bhajati bhasito'ddhalama-vidhim.Lord Brahma ,the creator of yore,Selects a dust from your feet,And creates he this world,The great Adisesha* with his thousand heads,Some how carries a dust of your feet,With effort great,And the great Lord Rudra,Takes it and powders it nice,And uses it as the holy ash.

The dust under your feet, Oh Goddess great,Is like the city of the rising sun,That removes all darkness , unfortunate,From the mind of the poor ignorant one,Is like the honey that flows ,From the flower bunch of vital action,To the slow witted one,Is like the heap of wish giving gems,To the poorest of men,And is like the teeth of Lord VishnuIn the form of Varaha,Who brought to surface,The mother earth,To those drowned in this sea of birth.

Oh, She who is refuge to all this world,All gods except you mother,Give refuge and grants wishes,Only by their hand.But only you motherNever show the world in detail,The boons and refuge that you can give,For even your holy feet will suffice,To remove fear for ever,And grant boons much more than asked.

You who grant all the good things,To those who bow at your feet,Was worshipped by the Lord Vishnu,Who took the pretty lovable feminine form,And could move the mind of he who burnt the cities,And make him fall in love with him.And the God of love , Manmatha,Took the form which is like nectar,Drunk by the eyes by Rathi his wife,After venerating you,Was able to create passion ,Even in the mind of Sages the great.

Oh ,daughter of the mountain of ice,With a bow made of flowers,Bow string made of honey bees,Five arrows made of only tender flowers,With spring as his minister,And riding on the chariot of breeze from Malaya mountainsThe god of love who does not have a body,Gets the sideways glance of your holy eyes,And is able to win all the world alone.

With a golden belt,Adorned by tiny tingling bells,Slightly bent by breasts like the two frontal globesOf an elephant fine,With a thin pretty form,And with a face like the autumn moon,Holding in her hands,A bow of sugar cane , arrows made of flowers,And the noose and goad,She who has the wonderful form,Of the ego of the God who burnt the three cities,Should please come and appear before us.

In the middle of the sea of nectar,In the isle of precious gems,Which is surrounded by wish giving Kalpaga trees,In the garden Kadamba trees,In the house of the gem of thought,On the all holy seat of the lap of the great God Shiva,Sits she who is like a tideIn the sea of happiness of ultimate truth,And is worshipped by only by few select holy men.

Oh Goddess mine,You live in seclusion with your consort,In the lotus with thousand petals,Reached after breaking through the micro ways,Of the power of earth in Mooladhara,Of the power of water of Mani poora,Of the power of fire of Swadhishtana,Of the fire of air in the heart,And of the power of ether in between the eyelids*

The Devotees who use Raja yoga believe that right below the back bone there exists a very micro nerve called Sushmna.Below this is the mooladhara chakra(The wheel which is the ultimate basis),and two inches above is the Swadishtana (ego wishes wheel) chakra and above that and opposite to the belly button is mani pooraka(the complete gem wheel) chakra and above that opposite to the heart is Anahatha chakra(deathless wheel) and above that opposite to the throat is the Vishuddhi chaka(wheel of ultimate cleanliness) and above that in between the eyelids is the Agna chakra(Wheel of order ) and in the bottom of the brain is the Sahasrara chakra(the wheel of thousand lotus),They belive that the malefic bad thoughts of men sleeps in the mooladhara chakra in the form of a snake called Kundalini..If the devotee can wake up this snake and lead it through each of the above wheels, step by step and make it reach the Sahasrara, he attains ultimate redemption and sees the ultimate truth behind everything.

Using the nectar that flows in between your feet,To drench all the nerves of the body,And descending from the moon with nectar like rays,Reaching back to your place,And coiling your body in to a ring like serpant,You sleep in the Kula Kunda* with a hole in the middle.

With four wheels of our Lord Shiva,And with five different wheels of you, my mother,Which are the real basis of this world,Your house of the holy wheel,Has four different parts,Of eight and sixteen petals,Three different circles,And three different lines,Making a total of forty four angles*.

Oh, daughter of ice mountain,Even the creator who leads ,An array of great poets,Fails to describe your sublime beauty.The heavenly maidens pretty,With a wish to see your pristine loveliness,Try to see you through the eyes your Lord , the great Shiva,And do penance to him and reach him through their mind.

With disheveled hair,With upper cloths slipping from their busts,With the lock of the golden belt getting open due to the haste,And with saris slipping away from their shoulders,Hundreds of young lasses,Run after the men,Who get your sidelong glance,Even though they are very old,Bad looking and not interested in love sports.

Your two holy feet are far above,The fifty six rays of the essence of earth of Mooladhara,The fifty two rays of the essence of water of Mani pooraka,The sixty two rays of the essence of fire of Swadhishtana,The fifty four rays of the essence of air of Anahatha,The seventy two rays of the essence of ether of Visuddhi,And the sixty four rays of the essence of mind of Agna chakra.

Sweetest words rivaling the honey, milk and grapes,Can only Come to the thoughts of the devotee,Who once meditates on your face,Which is like the white autumn moon,On your head with a crown with the crescent moon and flowing hair,And hands that shower boons and give protection,Which hold the crystal chain of beads and books.

She who is the purple luster of the dawn,To the lotus forest like mind,Of the kings of poets of the world,And thus called Aruna-the purple coloured one,Creates happiness in the mind of the holy,With tender passionate wave of words ,(Of Sarswathi the darling of Brahma,)Which are royal and youthful.

Oh, mother holy,He who worships you,Along with the goddess like Vasini,Who are the prime source of words,And you who are having the great luster,Got by breaking the moon stone,Becomes the author of great epics,Which shine like those written by great ones,And which have the sweet scentOf the face of the goddess of knowledge

He who meditates on,The luster of your beautiful body,Which is blessed by the rising sun,And which dissolves the sky and the world,In light purple hue,Makes celestial damsels like Uravasi and others,Who have eyes like the wild startled deer,Follow him like slaves.

Hey, Mother who is Goddess of all universe,He who meditates on you ,As the crescent of love of our lord great,,On the dot of the holy wheel,Your two busts just below,And you as the half of Shiva our lord,Not only Creates waves of emotion in ladies,But charms the world, which has moon and sun as busts.

He who meditates in his mind,On you who showers nectar from all your limbs,And in the form which resembles,The statue carved out of moonstone,Can with a single stare,Put an end to the pride of snakes,And with his nectar like vision,Cure those afflicted by fever.

Those souls great,Who have removed all the dirt from the mind,And meditate on you within their mind,Who is of the form of sun and moon,And living in the forest of lotus,And also above the six wheels of lotus,Enjoy waves after waves,Of happiness supreme.

If any one has wish in his mind to pray.“You , Bhavani , my mother,Please shower on me, a part of your merciful look”,Even before he says, “You Bhavani”,You my goddess,Would give to him the water,Falling from the crowns ,Of Vishnu, Rudra and Brahma,At your feet,And grant him, the eternal life in your world.

Your form in my mind,Is the colour of red of the rising sun,Is adorned with three eyes,Has two heavy busts,Is slightly bent,And wears a crown with the crescent moon,And hence arises a doubt in me,That you were not satisfied ,By half the body of Shambu that he gave,And occupied all his body.

Brahma creates the world,Vishnu looks after it,Shiva destroys it,Easwara makes them disappear,And also disappears himself,And Sadshiva blesses them all,By your order given to him,By a momentary move of your eyebrows.

Consort of Shiva,The worship done at the base of your feet,Is the worship done to the holy Trinity,Born based on your trine properties .This is so true, oh mother,Because don’t the trinity,Always stand with folded hands,Kept on their crownNear the jeweled plank,Which carries thine feet.

The creator reaches the dissolution,The Vishnu attains death,The god of death even dies,Kubera the lord of wealth expires,The Indras close their eyes one after one,And attain the wake less sleep,During the final deluge,But you my chaste mother,Play with your consort the Sadashiva

Let the mutterings that I do,With the sacrifice in my soul.Become chanting of your name,Let all my movements become thine Mudhras,Let my travel become perambulations around thee,Let the act of eating and drinking become fire sacrifice to thee,Let my act of sleeping becomes salutations to you ,And let all actions of pleasure of mine,Become parts of thine worship.

Yours escorts divine,Shout with concern at thee.“Avoid the crown of Brahma,You may hit your feet,At the hard crown of Vishnu,Who killed the ogre Kaidaba,Avoid the crown of Indra”,When you get up and rush in a hurry,To receive thine lord who comes to your place.

It is not surprising to know, Oh mother,Who does not have birth and death,And who is most suitable to be served,That the destroying fire of the deluge,Shows prayerful harathi to the one.Who considers you,(Who is of the form of rays,And is surrounded on all four sides,By the angels of power called Anima,)As his soul always,And who considers the wealth of the three eyed God,As worthless and as equal to dried grass.

The Lord of all souls, Pasupathi*,Did create the sixty four thanthras,Each leading to only one desired power,And started he his relaxation..But you goaded him mother,To create in this mortal world.Your thanthra called Sri vidya.Which grants the devotee,All powers that give powers,Over all the states in life.

She who is mother of us all,The seed letter “ka” of my lord Shiva,The seed letter “a” of goddess Shakthi,The seed letter “ee” of the god of love,The seed letter “la” of earth,The seed letter “ha” of the sun god,The seed letter “sa” of the moon with cool rays,The seed letter “ka” of again the god of love,The seed letter ”ha” of the sky,The seed letter “la” of Indra , the king of devas,The seed letter “sa” of Para,The seed letter “ka” of the God of love,The seed letter “la” of the Lord Vishnu,Along with your seed letters “Hrim”,Which joins at the end of each of the three holy wheels,Become the holy word to worship you.

This stanza gives indirectly the most holy Pancha dasakshari manthra which consists of three parts viz., ka-aa-ee-la-hrim at the end of Vagbhava koota, ha-sa-ka-ha-la-hrin at the end of kama raja koota and sa-ka-la-hrim at the end of Shakthi koota.These parts are respectively called Vahni kundalini, Surya Kundalini and Soma kundalini.

Oh, mother who is ever present,Those who realize the essence ,Of the limitless pleasure of the soul you give,And who add the seed letter “Iim” of the god of love,The seed letter “Hrim” of the goddess Bhuavaneswaree,And the seed letter “Srim” of the goddess Lakhmi,Which are the three letter triad,Wear the garland of the gem of thoughts,And offer oblations to the fire in triangle of Shiva,With the pure scented ghee of the holy cow, Kamadhenu,Several times and worship you.

Oh goddess supreme,I always see in my minds eye,That your body with sun and moon,As busts is the body of Shiva,And his peerless body with nine surrounding motes,Is your body, my goddess.And so the relation of,” that which has”,And” he who has”,Becomes the one perfect relation of happiness,And becomes equal in each of you.

Mind you are, Ether you are,Air you are, Fire you are,Water you are, Earth you are,And you are the universe, mother,There is nothing except you in the world,But to make believe your form as the universe,You take the role of wife of Shiva,And appear before us in the form of ethereal happiness.

The one who worships Parameshwara,Who has the luster of billions of moon and sunAnd who lives in thine Agna chakra- the holy wheel of order,And is surrounded by thine two forms,On both sides,Would forever live,In that world where rays of sun and moon do not enter,But which has its own luster,And which is beyond the sight of the eye,But is different from the world we see.

I bow before the Shiva ,Who is of the pure crystal form,In thine supremely pure wheelAnd who creates the principle of ether,And to you my mother,Who has same stream of thought as Him.I bow before you both,Whose moon like light,Forever removes the darkness of ignorance,Forever from the mind,And which shines like the Chakora* bird ,Playing in the full moon light.

I pray before the swan couple,Who only enjoy the honey ,From the fully open,Lotus flowers of knowledge,And who swim in the lake ,Which is the mind of great ones,And also who can never be described.From them come the eighteen arts,And they differentiate the good from the bad,Like the milk from water.

Mother ,think and worship I ,of the fire,In your holy wheel of Swadishtana,And the Rudra who shines in that fire,Like the destroying fire of deluge,And you who shine there as Samaya.When that angry fire of look of Rudhra,Burns the world ,Then your look drenches it in mercy,Which treats and cools it down.

I bow before that principle,Which is in your wheel of Manipooraka,Which as Parashakthi shines like the enemy of darkness,Which is with the streak of lightning,Which is with the shining jewels of precious stones of lightning,Which is also black as night,Which is burnt by Rudhra like the sun of the deluge,And which cools down the three worlds like a strange cloud.

I pray in your holy wheel of Mooladhara, You who likes to dance, And calls yourself as Samaya, And that Lord who performs the great vigorous dance, Which has all the shades of nine emotions. This world has you both as parents, Because you in your mercy, wed one another, To recreate the world, As the world was destroyed in the grand deluge.

This stanza till the end describes the great mother Shakthi from head to foot.These are supposed to be composed by the Adhi Sankara himself.

Hey daughter of the ice mountain,He who chooses to describe,Your crown ,bedecked with shining jewels,Which are but the transformed form,And arranged very close to one another,Of the twelve holy suns,Will see the crescent in your crown,In the dazzling light of those jewels,And think them as a rainbow,Which is but the bow of Indra.

Oh, Goddess , who is the consort of Shiva,Let the darkness of our mind be destroyed,By the crowning glory on your head,Which is of like the forest of opened blue lotus flowers,And which is soft , dense and shines with luster.I believe my mother,That the pretty flowers of Indra’s Garden,Are all forever there,To get the natural scent of thine hair.

Oh mother, let the line parting thine hairs,Which looks like a canal,Through which the rushing waves of your beauty ebbs,And which on both sides imprisons,Your Vermillion , which is like a rising sunBy using your hair which is dark like,The platoon of soldiers of the enemy,Protect us and give us peace.

By nature slightly curled,And shining like the young honey beesYour golden thread like hairs,Surround your golden face.Your face makes fun of the beauty of the lotus.And adorned with slightly parted smile,

Showing the tiers of your teeth,Which are like the white tendrils,And which are sweetly scented.Bewitches the eyes of God,Who burnt the god of love.

I suspect oh, mother,That your forehead,Which shines with the beauty of the moon,Is but an imprisoned half moon,By your glorious crown,For If joined oppositeTo the inverted half moon in your crown,It would give out the nectar like luster,Of the moon on a full moon day.

Oh Goddess Uma,She who removes fear from the world,The slightly bent eye brows of yours,Tied by a hoard of honey bees forming the string,I feel Resembles the bow of the god of loveHeld by his left hand .And having hidden middle part*,Hid by the wrist, and folded fingers.

Right eye of yours is like the sun,And makes the day,Left eye of yours is like the moon,And creates the night,Thine middle eye,Which is like the golden lotus bud,Slightly opened in to a flower,Makes the dawn and the dusk.

The look from your eyes, Oh goddessIs all pervasive,Does good to every one,Sparkles everywhere,Is a beauty that can never be challenged,Even by blue lily flowers,Is the source of rain of mercy,Is sweetness personified,Is long and pretty,Is capable of saving devotees,Is in the several cities as its victory..And can be called by several names,According to which aspect one sees.

Thine two long eyes , Oh goddess,Are like the two little bees which want to drink the honey,And extend to the ends ,With a pretense of side glances,To thine two ears,Which are bent upon drinking the honey,From the flower bunch of poems.Presented by your devotees,And make thine third eye light purple,With jealousy and envy,

Mother of all universe,The look from your eyes,Is kind and filled with love, when looking at your Lord,Is filled with hatred at all other men,Is filled with anger when looking at Ganga,The other wife of your Lord,Is filled with wonder , When hearing the stories of your Lord,Is filled with fear , when seeing the snakes worn by your Lord,Is filled with red colour of valour of the pretty lotus fine,Is filled with jollity, when seeing your friends,And filled with mercy, when seeing me.

Oh , flower bud,Who is the head gear ,Of the king of mountains,Wearing black eye brows above,Resembling the feathers of eagle,And determined to destroy peace,From the mind of he who destroyed the three cities,Your two eyes elongated up to thine ears,Enact the arrows of the God of love.

Oh, Darling of God Shiva,Those three eyes of thine,Coloured in three shades,By the eye shades you wear,To enhance thine beauty,Wear the three qualities,Of satvam, rajas and thamas,As if to recreate the holy trinity,Of Vishnu, Brahma and Rudra,After they become one with you,During the final deluge.

She who has a heart owned by Pasupathi,Your eyes which are the companions of mercy,Coloured red, white and black,Resemble the holy rivers ,Sonabhadra , which is red,Ganga which is white,Yamuna , the daughter of Sun, which is black,And is the confluence of these holy rivers,Which remove all sins of the world.We are certain and sure,That you made this meet and join,To make us , who see you , as holy.

The learned sages tell,Oh , daughter of the king of mountain,That this world of us,Is created and destroyed,When you open and shut,Your soulful eyes.I believe my mother,That you never shut your eyes,So that this world created by you,Never , ever faces deluge.

Oh, She who is begotten to none,It is for sure,That the black female fish in the stream,Are afraid to close their eyes.Fearing that thine long eyes,Resembling them all,Would murmur bad about them,In your ears to which they are close by.It is also for sure,That the Goddess Lakshmi,Enters the blooming blue Lilly flowers,Before your eyes close at night,And reenter in the morn when they open.

She who is the consort of Lord Shiva,Please bathe me with your merciful look,From your eyes which are very long,And have the glitter of slightly opened,Blue lotus flower divine.By this look I will become rich with all that is known,And you do not loose anything whatsoever,For does not the moon shine alike,In the forest and palaces great.

Oh goddess, who is the daughter of king of mountains,Who will not but believe,That the two arched ridges between your eyes and ears,Are the flower bow of the God of Love,?Side glances of your eyes,Piercing through these spaces,Makes one wonder as if the arrows have been ,Sent through thine ears.

I feel that thine face,With the pair of ear studs,Reflected in thine two mirror like cheeks.Is the four wheeled Charriot,Of the God of love.Perhaps he thought he can win Lord Shiva,Who was riding in the chariot of earth,With Sun and moon as wheels,Because he was riding in this chariot.

Oh Goddess , who is the consort of Lord Shiva,Your sweet voice which resembles,The continuous waves of nectar,Fills the ear vessels of Saraswathi,Without break,And she shakes her head hither and thither,And the sound made by her ear studs,Appear as if they applaud your words.

Oh Goddess , who is the flag of the clan of Himalayas,Let your nose which is like a thin bamboo,Give us the blessings which are apt and near.I feel mother,That you are wearing a rare pearl,Brought out by your breath,Through your left nostril,For your nose is a storehouse,Of rarest pearls divine.

Oh goddess who has beautiful rows of teeth,I tried to find a simile to your blood red lips,And can only imagine the fruit of the coral vine!The fruits of the red cucurbit,Hangs its head in shame,On being compared to your lips,As it has tried to imitate its colour.from you,And knows that it has failed miserably.

The Chakora* birds,Feel that their tongues have been numbed,By forever drinking,The sweet nectar like light emanating,From your moon like face,And for a change wanted to taste,The sour rice gruel during the night,And have started drinking,The white rays of the full moon in the sky.

Mother mine,The well known tongue of yours,Which without rest chants and repeats,The many goods of your Consort, Shiva,Is red like the hibiscus flower.The Goddess of learning Saraswathi,Sitting at the tip of your tongue,Though white and sparkling like a crystal,Turns red like the ruby,Because of the colour of your tongue.

Oh mother of the world,The lords subrahmanya, Vishnu and Indra,Returning and resting after the war with Asuras.Have removed their head gear,And wearing the iron jackets,Are not interested in the left over,After the worship of Shiva,Which belongs to Chandikeswara,And are swallowing with zest,The half chewed betel,From your holy mouth,Which has the camphor as white as the moon.

Oh mother of all,.When you start nodding your head,Muttering sweetly, “good,good”,To the Goddess Saraswathi,When she sings the great stories to you,Of Pasupathi our lord,With the accompaniment of her Veena,She mutes the Veena by the covering cloth,So that the strings throwing sweetest music,Are not put to shame,By your voice full of sweetness.

Oh daughter of the mountain,How can we describe the beauty of your chin,Which was with affection caressed,By the tip of his fingers by your father Himavan:Which was oft lifted by the Lord of the mountain, Shiva,In a hurry to drink deeply from your lips;Which was so fit to be touched by his fingers;Which did not have anything comparable,And which is the handle of the mirror of your face.

Your neck appears full of thorns always,Due to the hairs standing out,By the frequent embrace of thy Lord,Who destroyed the three cities.And looks like the beauty of the stalk,Of your lotus like face.The chain of white pearls worn below,Is dulled by the incense and myrrh,And the paste of sandal applied there,And is like the tender stalk,Dirtied by the bed of mud.

She who is an expert in Gathi, Gamaka and Geetha*,The three lucky lines on your neck,Perhaps remind one,Of the number of the well tied manifold thread,Tied during your marriage,And also remind of the place,In your pretty neck,Where originates the three musical notes,Of Shadja, Madhyama and Gandhara,

Brahma, the God born out of Lotus, Afraid of the nails Of Shiva, Who killed the Asura called Andhaka, Which has clipped of one of his heads, Praises with his four faces, Your four pretty , tender hands, Resembling the lotus flower stalk, So that he can ask for protection for his remaining four heads, By use of your four merciful hands at the same time.71 (Getting of wealth)Nakhanam uddyotai nava-nalina-ragam vihasatham Karanam te kantim kathaya kathayamah katham Ume; Kayachid va samyam bhajatu kalaya hanta kamalam Yadi kridal-lakshmi-charana-tala-laksha-rasa-chanam.

Oh Goddess Uma,You only tell us ,how,How we can describe,The shining of your hands,By the light of your nails,Which tease the redness of freshly opened lotus?Perhaps if the red lotus mixes,With the liquid lac adorning,The feet of Lakshmi,Some resemblance can be seen.

Our Goddess Devi,Let your two cool breasts,Which have faces that always,Give out milk,And are simultaneously drunk deeply.By Skanda and the elepahant faced Ganesha,,Destroy all our sorrows.Seeing them and getting confused,The Herambha* feels for his two frontal globes,To see whether they are there,Making you both laugh.

Oh, Victory flag of the king of mountains,We never have any doubt in our mind,That your two breasts divine,Are the nectar filled pot made of rubies,For The elephant faced one,And he who killed Crownchasura*,Even today do not know the pleasure of women,And remain as young children.

Oh mother mine.The center place of your holy breasts,Wear the glittering chain ,Made out of the pearls,Recovered from inside the head of Gajasura,And reflect the redness of your lips,Resembling the Bimba fruits,And are coloured red inside.You wear the chain with fame,Like you wear the fame of our Lord.Who destroyed the three cities.

Oh daughter of the king of mountains,I feel in my mind,That the milk that flows from your breast,Is really the goddess of learning, Sarswathi,In the form of a tidal wave of nectar.For , milk given by you ,who is full of mercy,Made the child of Dravida*,The king among those great poets,Whose works stole one’s mind.

Oh daughter of the mountain,The God of love who is the king of the mind,Being lit by the flame of anger of Shiva,Immersed himself in the deep pond of thine navel.The tendril like smoke emanated from there,And mother, people think,That this is the line of hair,That climbs from your navel upwards.

The mother of universe who is Shiva and Shakthi,In the narrow part of the middle of your body.The learned men seem to see a line,Which is in the shape of a small wave of the river Yamuna,And which shines and glitters, and appears like the sky ,Made very thin by thine dense colliding breasts,Entering your cave like navel.

Oh daughter of the mountain,Is your navel a whirl pool in river Ganga,Which looks very stable!Or is it the root of the climber,Of the stream of your hair line,Which has two breasts of yours as buds,Or is it the Homa fire,Where the fire is the light from cupid,Or is it the play house of Rathi, the wife of God of love,Or is it the opening to the cave,In which Shiva’s tapas gets fulfilled,I am not able to make up my mind!

Oh daughter of the mountain,You who is the greatest among women,Long live your pretty hips,Which look fragile,Which are by nature tiny,Which are strained by your heavy breasts,And hence slightly bent,And which look like the tree,In the eroded banks of a rushing river.

Oh Goddess mine,Placed just below your shoulders,By Cupid , the God of love,Tearing your blouse which is attached ,To your body by the sweat,When you think of the greatness of your Lord,And resembling pots of Gold,Your breasts appear to be tied by him,Securely three times,By the three creeper like folds*.

Oh, daughter of the mountain,Perhaps Himavan , the king of mountains,Gave readily as dowry to you,The density and breadth from his bottom,So that your behinds are broad and dense.And therefore they both hide all the world,And make the world light.

Oh daughter of the mountain,Who knows the rules of the Vedas,Using your two thighs,You have achieved victory over,The trunks of the elephant,And the Golden pseudo stem of group of Banana plants,And achieved victory over frontal globes,Of Iravatha* the divine elephant,By your holy round knees,Which have become hard,By repeated prostrations to your lord.

Oh daughter of the mountain,The five arrowed cupid,To win , Rudhra your lord,Has made your legs,In to an arrow case,With ten arrows.In the end of the case,Are your two feet,Studded with ten of your so called nails,Which are the ten steel tipped arrows,Sharpened on the crowns of Devas.

Oh mother mine,Be pleased to place your two feet ,Which are the ornaments of the head of Upanishads,The water which washes them are the river Ganges,Flowing from Shiva’s head,And the lac paint adorning which,Have the red luster of the crown of Vishnu,On my head with mercy..

We tell our salutations,To thine two sparkling feet.Which are most beautiful to the eyes,And Painted by the juice of red cotton.We also know well ,That God of all animals, your consort,Is very jealous of the asoka trees in the garden ,Which yearn for kick by your feet.

In a playful mood,after teasing you,About you and your family,And at a loss to control your love tiff,When your consort does prostrations,Your lotus like feet touches his forehead,And the God of love , the enemy of your Lord, who was burnt,By the fire from his third eye,And was keeping the enmity with your lord,Like the ever hurting arrow,Makes sounds like Kili Kili*,From your belled anklets on the legs.

Oh mother mine,The lotus flower rots in snow,But your feet are aces in being in snow,The lotus flower sleeps at night,But your feet are wakeful night and after night,The lotus makes the goddess of wealth Lakshmi live in it,But your feet gives Lakshmi* to its devotees,And so your two feet always wins over the lotus,What is so surprising in this?

Oh, Goddess Devi,How did the poets compare,The foreside of your merciful feet,Which are the source of fame to your devotees,And which are not the source of danger to them ,To the hard shell of tortoise,I do not understand.How did he who destroyed the three cities,Take them in his hand,And place them on hard rock*,During your marriage?

Your moon like nails,Oh mother who killed Chanda,Which makes the celestial maidens,Fold their hands in shame,Forever tease your two feet,Which unlike the holy trees in heaven,(Which by their leaf bud like hands,Give all they wish to the Gods,)Give the poor people wealth and happiness,Always and fast.

My soul with six organs,Is similar to the six legged honey bees,Which dip at your holy feet,Which are as pretty,As the flower bunch,Of the Celestial tree,Which always grant wealth to the poor,Whenever they wish,And which without break showers floral honey.

She who has a holy life,The swans in your house,Follow you without break,As if to learn ,Your gait which is like a celestial play.So thine lotus like feet,Taking recourse to the musical sound,Produced by gems in your anklets,Appears to teach them what they want.

Brahma, Vishnu, Rudhra and Easwara,Who are the gods who rule the world,Become the four legs of your cot,So that they are able to serve you always.Sadhashiva who is white in colour.Becomes the bed spread on which you sleep,And appears red , because he reflects your colour.And to your eyes which are the personification,Of the feelings of love,He gives lot of happiness.

Her mercy which is beyond.The mind and words of Our Lord Shiva,Is forever victorious in the form of Aruna,So as to save this world.That spirit of mercy is in the form of,Curves in her hairs,In the form of natural sweetness in her smile.In the form of pretty tenderness of a flower in her mind,In the form of firmness of a ruby stone in her breasts,In the form of thin seductiveness in her hips,In the form of voluptuousness in her breasts and back.

The moon that we know is thine jewel box,Filled with water of incense,The blackness we see in the moon,The musk put for thy use in this box,And the crescents we see of the moonIs thy canister of emerald,Full of divine camphor.And for sure,Brahma the creator refills these daily,After your use,So that they are always full.

You are Leading light of the home of Lord Shiva,Who destroyed the three cities,And so coming near you and worshipping at thine feet,Are not for those with weak mind.,Who do not have control of their senses.And that is why perhaps,Indra and other Gods,Stay outside your gates,And attain your sweet self,By practice of siddhis like Anima.

Many poets reach the Goddess of learning,The wife of the creaor,By composing soulfull poems.Many who search and attain riches,Are termed as the Lord of the Goddess of wealth.Oh, first among chaste woman,Except Lord Shiva your consort.Your breasts have not even touched,The holy henna* tree.

Oh , Parashakthi who is one with Parabrahma,Though those who have learned Vedas,Call you as Brahma’s wife Sarawathi,Or call you as Vishnu’s wife Lakshmi,Or call you as Shiva’s wife Parvathi,You are the fourth called Maha Maya,Who gives life to the world,And have attained all that is to attain.

Oh , mother mine,When shall I , who begs for knowledgeBe able to drink, the nectar like water,Flowing from your feet,Mixed with reddish lac applied there?When shall that water attain,The goodness of saliva mixed with Thambola*,From the mouth of goddess of learning,Which made one born as mute,Into the king of poets?

Those who worship thee , oh mother,Are so learned and so rich,That even Brahma and Vishnu,Are jealous of themThey are so handsome,That even the wife of Cupid, Rathi,Yearns for them.He unbound from the ties of this birth,Always enjoys ecstasic happiness,And lives for ever .

Oh Goddess who is the source of all words,This poem which is made of words,That you only made,Is like showing the camphor lamp to the Sun,Is like offering as ablation to the moon,The water got from the moon stone,And is like offering water worship,To the sea..

THE GREAT WORK OF ADHI SHANKARA IN PRAISE OF THE DIVINE MOTHER.

glossary

* The Thousand headed serpent who carries the worlds on his head* Another name for Mooladhara Chakra* The geometric design of Sri chakra(holy wheel) where the mother resides is described here.

* The Lord of all souls* A mythical bird in Hindu mythology which is supposed to drink moon light* Composed by Adhi Sankara Bhagawat Pada* The nose jutting in between the eye brows* Mythical birds supposed to drink the moon light* The three major parts of Karnatic Classical music.-procedure, undulations and song* Another name for Lord Ganesha* God Subrahamanya* The Tamil poet Tirugnana Sambandar who preceded Sankara* The three folds on the belly.* The elephant on which Indra rides* Sound of teasing also Sound from anklets* wealth is also called Lakshmi* A rite in Hindu marriage called Asmarohanam* The henna tree is supposed to wish for the embrace of maidens* Betel leaf, betel nut and lime used for chewing